


The case of the drunk detective

by Wordsandlovers



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk John, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Gay Sex, M/M, Sex in the police station
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1818235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsandlovers/pseuds/Wordsandlovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk Sherlock and John, what happens in the cell when they are drunk, it escalates quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The case of the drunk detective

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt  
> Anonymous asked:Sherlock riding john when they're stuck in the cell during Stag Night (found as anon submission on thebestofjohnlockprompts tumblr)  
> Trying to get back into writing.  
> First time writing fanfiction.  
> My twitters: one direction fan account @hazelgracelarry  
> Personal @wordsandlovers  
> My tumblr : larrytardisrory  
> And my lovely beta's twitter @lxuisbanana and her ao3 is PizzaLxrry

The stag night started out fine, well, as fine as a stag night can be when it was just yourself and Sherlock Holmes. John was surprised when Sherlock drank as much alcohol as John was drinking, not really shocked; when you live with Sherlock Holmes nothing is shocking anymore. He has had to deal with finding severed heads in the fridge, Sherlock faking his own death and stabbing a Cluedo board halfway through the game due to it not "following the rules of crime and logic." Most of the night after the first couple of bars is a bit foggy in Johns mind. He remembers a lot of shirtless men at one point, but maybe he's just imagining things. He vaguely remembers cuddling on the stairs with Sherlock; he seemed to be a touchy feely drunk...

The two of them were currently giggling while being manhandled into a small cell at the police station. When left alone, the two men sat side by side, still giggling softly. 

A sudden rush of tiredness consumed John. He felt seconds away from nodding off, but as he rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder, Sherlock shifted himself around, jostling John completely. This, in turn, made John make a vey undignified noise, his head starting to ache from the alcohol he had consumed earlier on in the evening. While john huffed out in annoyance at his loss in almost sleep, Sherlock seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. John was hunched over and trying to make room for himself to lie down on the bench/bed thing. Sherlock had a huge grin on his face… it disturbed John a bit. 

“What is it you're so happy about…? You’re the one with that reputation thingy you kept going on about, or was that a dog…?” John stammered out in his drunken state. 

“I just remembered how you look when you are on you're knees in front of me… you look very good from that angle you know,” Sherlock stated matter-of-factly, with his words drawn out longer than usual. 

It took John a few seconds to comprehend what Sherlock was talking about. It seemed as if Sherlock was making a dirty remark, but was Sherlock able to say something with such a meaning? John slowly raised his head to look at Sherlock; his eyes squinted and worry lines prominent on his forehead. “Sure you’re saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m making a drunk confession, isn't that what I’m supposed to do?” Sherlock pondered, with a look akin to puppy eyes, His eyes meeting John’s for the first time since they were still in the flat.

“I suppose it is,” John spoke in a hushed tone, realising just how close to Sherlock’s face he was, even with the fairly drastic height difference. “I could say one, if you’d like…” The tension in the room was getting extremely intense.

“Yes, I think that would be best, otherwise I might have made a mistake and embarrassed myself; revealing such information that may make it awkward for you.”

They both seemed a bit more sober and more conscious of their actions at this point. 

“Well… Um… The- the first time I met you, I thought that kissing you would- it would be nice. Um, yeah. And that wink you gave me- it really affected me,” John practically whispered. He was pretty sure that neither of them had blinked in far too long, and John certainly wasn't breathing the way that he should be. Sherlock moved his face just slightly forward, even closer to John’s, practically breathing on his lips. 

“Isn’t drunk kissing also something you’re supposed to do?” 

John had never heard Sherlock speak in such a soft tone. He supposed that Drunk Sherlock wasn’t Normal Sherlock. John kept glancing from Sherlock’s eyes to his plump lips and probably being far too obvious about it. “I suppose it is…” John repeated, barely audible as their faces got even closer, neither of them breathing. In John’s still slightly drunk state, he had a rush of confidence that caused him to grab the back of Sherlock’s neck and surge forward, connecting their lips simply and beautifully for the first time. It made so many feelings come crashing down on him, like this simple kiss could crash down a massive wall he didn't even know he had made. When he pulled back from Sherlock’s mouth and opened his eyes, which he didn’t know were closed, he was greeted by the perfection of Sherlock’s face up close. John noticed he looked slightly upset, John opened his mouth slightly to ask what was wrong, but in that moment Sherlock leaned over to connect their lips once again. With Sherlock kissing him when his mouth was open, caused their kiss to become more tongue and passion, both pressing forward with a slight fight for dominance. Sherlock broke the kiss, much to John’s dismay; he seemed to want to comment on the kiss like it had been an experiment (God I hope I’m not an utter idiot being played just to be a part of one of Sherlock’s twisted games).

“I’ve never had a kiss like that.” Sherlock stated, almost seeming to be reassuring John that this was the real thing. The sudden realisation of where they were and what they were doing entering John's mind.

Sherlock was frowning slightly. “I- Um- I have a problem..." 

"What?" John’s eyes widened at Sherlock's remark. He instantly thought of all the ways he was overstepping boundaries and how uncomfortable Sherlock must feel.

Before John had a chance to apologise Sherlock was shifting and drawing John's attention towards the detectives lap. John saw what Sherlock meant by problem, He could see a bulge in the front of Sherlock's tight trousers, the fabric being pulled taught.

"Oh... You should probably do something about that." John whispered back at the detective.

This caused the other man to look up at him with a small pout and wide eyes, he seemed to not know what to do, which didn't really surprise John all that much. John sighed slightly and went back to kissing Sherlock, feeling the other man huffing into his mouth, a bit disgruntled. John was very close to sighing at Sherlock again, so he pulled the taller man on top of him on the bench, both straining to keep kissing with Sherlock in John's lap. The detective's hands found themselves in the other man's hair, gripping slightly. John's hands, however, were resting on Sherlock's arse, the kissing turning more sexual and John's mind went blank as Sherlock's tongue moved around his. The alcohol still coursing through their veins only made their actions even more intense. 

John was groping and massaging Sherlock's arse more confidently now, causing him to half groan, half moan into the kiss. John liked the noises that Sherlock was making, and one of his hands went up Sherlock’s back, under his shirt. Sherlock’s skin was warm to the touch, a contrast to his pale appearance. 

Sherlock pulled himself closer to the blonde man, making their trouser covered erections grind against each other’s and both moan into each other’s mouths. Sherlock shuddered from the friction on his cock, causing John’s hand to slip under his waistband, his hand resting on Sherlock’s bare arse. John opened his eyes and tried to pull back from the kiss. “Is- is this okay?” Sherlock looked confused for a second, his mouth parted, a few shades darker than usual and his eyes glazed over with dilated pupils.

“It’s perfect,” he replied in a slow drawl with a slight smile.

With Sherlock’s approval of the situation, John’s hand squeezed Sherlock’s arse and pulled him back towards him, closing all of the space that was between them. 

They continued sharing wet, open-mouthed kisses while John’s heart beat far too fast, hardly noticing when his fingers moved to where Sherlock’s hole is, only realising when Sherlock shuddered almost violently in his lap. They both gasp into each other’s mouths, and before John could ask him again whether the situation was too much, Sherlock let out a loud moan, silencing all thoughts in John’s mind. 

John pressed his finger against Sherlock's hole more determinedly, looking closely at the other man's facial features, seeing them contort in pleasure. A sudden realisation dawned on John; they would not be able to continue their raunchy experience if they did not have any lube to continue with. As soon as John was about to voice his concern of the situation, Sherlock made a noise similar to something a grumpy teenager would make if you took away their phone, one of Sherlock's hands released from their grip on John's hair and went into his own trouser pocket, John could see his fingers shaking slightly in a way he had never seen before. Sherlock shoved the contents of his pocket into the other man's chest; he had to take his hands away from Sherlock's arse to take hold of a small purple see through packet. 

"Why exactly do you have this in your pocket?" John asked in a surprisingly husky voice. Sherlock seemed reluctant to respond, choosing instead to grind his hips forward and hunch over in pleasure. John glared at him halfheartedly and grabbed hold of Sherlock's hips, careful to not put too much pressure on the packet of lube. Sherlock groaned huffily again and looked up into John's eyes, hands braced against the white cold wall behind the other man's head.

“The website said I had to be prepared and that when people get drunk they normally experiment, and I know what I want and that if I found out whether you wanted it I could- I could have the right things to make it more enjoyable… and I’ve always had my suspicions about you John.” John repressed a groan and was surprised that Sherlock could talk so clearly for how his cock was clearly tenting his boxers and there was a pink flush spreading up his chest, under his partially unbuttoned shirt. His skin looked slightly sweaty, glistening under the cell’s light. ”Are you going to get on with it any time soon or are you just going to sit there, ogling me?”

John coughed and tried to regain his concentration and slick his fingers up, gently placing down the packet with enough lube still there for what was to come. With John’s dry hand, he pulled down the back of the other man’s trousers and tucking it under Sherlock’s arse to keep it out of his way. His lubed up fingers travelled to Sherlock’s hole, tracing one of his fingers around it, gently pressing but not hard enough to penetrate. Meanwhile, the other man was using a hand to try and get his cock out of his now even tighter trousers, sighing in content when he finally gets a hand wrapped around himself, seemingly not that bothered of John’s teasing, choosing to bend down slightly and kiss John gently, smiling into the kiss and proceeding to moan into it when John’s finger finally slipped into the tight heat of Sherlock’s hole, a breathy whimper coming out of his mouth when he broke the kiss, the noise going straight to John’s neglected cock. 

John couldn’t resist Sherlock’s pale neck, looking delicious and unmarked right in front of John’s face, so John took a hold of Sherlock’s curly hair in his hand to hold his head back and latched his mouth around the neck of the quivering man in his lap, thrusting his finger in and out of Sherlock's hole. Sherlock let out a guttural moan as John licked over the purple mark he had just made, kissing the skin gently and adding another wet finger into Sherlock's hole. Sherlock was panting and arching his back, tugging furiously at his hard cock, far too fast for John's liking. John let go of Sherlock's hair to bat at Sherlock’s hand holding his cock, making him let go and let John grab hold of it instead, his hand going a lot slower than Sherlock’s was. 

Sherlock was rutting forward into John’s hand and then grinding back on John’s fingers. Sherlock’s hands found themselves on the army doctor’s shoulders. They managed to set into a rhythm, with John pulling his hand and moving his fingers at the right times to pleasure Sherlock, just enough without getting him off too quickly. The rhythm was slightly lost when John added a third finger into Sherlock’s hole, hitting his prostate with all three fingers, causing an almost animalistic noise to be released from Sherlock. His reaction made John pause his movement inside Sherlock, and realising just how hard he was in his trousers beneath Sherlock. 

“Sherlock… I need- need you to- to ride m-me.” John stuttered out between aroused whimpers. 

Sherlock raised his eyes from beneath his fringe that had all but fallen in his face from his previous erratic movements. He nodded his head while they both tried to catch their breath. Sherlock leaned into John and kissed him sweetly, licking into the other man’s mouth with emotion. He let go of John’s shoulders and removed his lips from John’s, leaving him with one more close-mouthed kiss as he sunk to his knees, his trousers gathering under his arse, his balls over the top of the waist line. John took in a shuddering breath when Sherlock fumbled with the button and zipper on his trousers, his hands gently grazing over John’s cock through the layers of fabric.

When Sherlock had undone the trousers, he hooked his fingers into John’s boxers as well and pulled them both down with John’s help, lifting his hips up off the bench to get the clothes down to his calves and shins. Sherlock leans back up and finally gets a hand around John’s cock and tugs a few times while looking up at John’s flushed face with his eyes closed and breathy moves escaping his mouth. When Sherlock dragged his thumb across the head of his cock, John opened his eyes, instantly locking them with Sherlock’s.

Sherlock kept John’s gaze, as he licked over the head of John’s cock. He felt John’s thigh tense up under his hand, he gave him a reassuring squeeze, kissing the very top of John’s cock before taking the head in-between his lips and suckling, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing John down, his cock heavy in Sherlock’s mouth. When Sherlock couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer he closed them and took as much of John as he could, which was surprisingly a lot. His tongue was working over the head of John’s cock and he looked almost pained in the way that he was taking John’s cock almost all the way down, nose barely touching John’s abdomen. John would voice his confusion on how Sherlock was able to do these things with his mouth when in all the time that they had known each other he hadn’t seemed to have a sexual partner. Maybe he had watched YouTube tutorials, but he couldn’t ask when he was in such a state, so he grabbed Sherlock by the hair instead and reluctantly lifted his head up from his cock and pulled him all the way up, making him stand up in an incredibly elegant way. Sherlock was now standing in front of him, slightly looming over him. Before Sherlock’s cock could distract John in his face, he reached for Sherlock’s trousers and pulled them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. He stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor as he got closer to John and made his way into his lap, so that their cocks were gently touched together, and John had to refrain himself from moaning out at the feeling. 

Sherlock then leaned over to the side of John, getting the packet of lube back off of the bench and poured the remainder of the packet out into his own hand and took a hold of John’s cock, stroking up and down a few times before Sherlock let go. He lifted himself up, onto his knees on either side of John’s hips, taking hold of John’s cock again behind himself and lining it up with his own hole. 

As soon as John’s cock touched Sherlock’s hole for the first time, both of their breaths caught, and as Sherlock lowered himself down slowly on to John, the feeling almost too much, no thoughts were able to cross John’s mind at that moment. Inch by inch, Sherlock sunk lower and lower until he was sitting in John’s lap in a very different way than ever before. Sherlock’s forehead wrinkled before he could move at all, and he took John’s face in his hands, kissing him with as much love as he could. 

John began stroking the other man’s cock again slowly. Everything was slow now, and Sherlock let out a grunt and stopped kissing John, so he could move his hips up. He was clenching around John and making sure that he wouldn’t slip out of him, getting all the way up to John’s head before thrusting back down, arching his back in pleasure as John’s cock almost hit his prostate dead on. John’s stroking got faster and Sherlock kept rocking up and down on his cock, whimpering more and leaning into the white wall behind John’s head. Sherlock’s prostate was being hit every time and it was almost too much to take for him. He felt so good around John’s cock, he was so very tight, tensing the muscle holding John ever so often when he slams back down particularly hard, causing his prostate to be hit so hard it made him go lightheaded, the little noises he made went strait to John’s cock, making him twitch slightly inside Sherlock. 

It amazed him how he was actually inside this beautiful genius. The tight heat was perfection, but it made it hard for him to think clearly, if at all. John let out a noise similar to one that Sherlock kept making. If you asked him in that moment what he felt, the answer would simply be amazing, as that is the only word that crossed John’s mind. When he looked up at Sherlock’s face he realised just how fast this was going and also spared a thought to how fast he was stroking him. 

He realised then that they were still in the cell, the wall cold on the back of his head, they were much more sober now and the way that they were blocked off from the rest of the world, by a massive door bolted shut, made him feel his heart flutter, or it could have been the way Sherlock was riding him in erratic, rapid movements. His hand fell from the other’s cock, and he grabbed Sherlock’s hips in both hands, pausing his movements momentarily before thrusting up into Sherlock, bouncing Sherlock in time to his thrusts. Both of their mostly clothed bodies were covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Sherlock took one of his hands off of the wall and stroked himself in time to their movements. Soon Sherlock was moaning loader and loader, John wondered whether the cell was soundproofed momentarily until he felt Sherlock tightening almost to the point that it would get painful for John, all of Sherlock’s movement’s becoming uncontrolled.

John watched as Sherlock came, beautifully contorting into such an intense pleasure exploding within him, the flush had now made its way onto Sherlock’s face. His come spurted out, missing John’s chin just slightly, it took a few seconds for him to come back down. That was all the time that John needed, he thrust three more times into Sherlock’s shuddering body and came inside Sherlock. Everything disappeared into pleasure; even the slight headache disappeared in those few seconds. It never crossed John’s mind, that Sherlock may have not have wanted John’s come inside him. Sherlock was now slumped over him, both men slightly sticky. John lifted Sherlock off of his softened cock with the little energy that he had. He had completely forgot about his exhaustion when they had started whispering to each other, now it was so much more powerful. John felt what must have been Sherlock pulling up his trousers and shifting himself so that they should remain like that as John’s eyelids became too heavy, and all he could smell was Sherlock’s shampoo and the slight smell of sex remaining on Sherlock.

As he drifted gently into unconsciousness he thinks he hears Sherlock mumble something that might have sounded something like, “I think I love you John.” He was far too gone to respond.


End file.
